


no i never get used to silence

by swwf17



Series: We Should Come with a Warning [5]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Family Feels, Gen, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 09:49:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11987331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swwf17/pseuds/swwf17
Summary: Kara does not do well with change.





	no i never get used to silence

Kara loves the first day of school.

Has  _always_  loved the first day of school—or, whatever the Kryptonian equivalent would be. (Kara supposes the closest thing would have been the season following the Trials, when students were advanced to the next tier of lessons, and Guild Assessments were updated.)

It’s a little different on Earth (…okay maybe a  _lot_  different) but Kara loves it all the same.

Alex?

Not so much.

Not at first, anyway. Not at six thirty in the morning.

Kara knows this because she… _maaaaybe_  gets a little excited, and  _maaaaaybe_ sets the alarm a little bit earlier than strictly necessary, and  _maaaaaybe_  has a hard time keeping quiet as she gets ready, and  _maaaaaaybe_  wakes Alex up accidentally-on-purpose.

And Alex grumbles into her pillow and blindly shoves Kara’s grinning face out of her personal space and tells her that it is  _way too early for this_  and  _human teenagers do not get this excited over high school, Kara_. But Kara can hear the amusement, buried beneath the mild annoyance.

Today, though.

Today, her alarm goes off early, and she doesn’t want to get up.

_Beep, beep, beep_. She lets the alarm chirp for several long minutes, hunching further into her blankets.

_Beep, beep, beep._

She reluctantly rolls over, reaching out to silence the clock. Her fingers brush the snooze button, and her gaze drifts towards the empty bed across the room.

The sight makes her throat burn. She quickly turns back to face the wall, twisting the fabric of her comforter in her fists.

She’s fine, she’s just…

Not great with change.

* * *

Eliza’s already up, making breakfast in the kitchen by the time Kara’s showered and dressed for school. She takes a seat at the table, working on a slouch that would make Alex very proud.

“Morning, sweetie,” Eliza says with a smile, walking over to drop a kiss on Kara’s temple. Kara hums a greeting, and wonders if she’s too depressed to make pancakes.

After some deliberation, the answer is,  _no, no she is not._

She gets up and starts poking through the cupboards, looking for the necessary ingredients. Eliza watches her, and then turns her attention to the digital clock on the microwave.

“Better put on a little super speed,” she teases Kara. “Someone’s running a bit late today.”

Kara forces a smile, but keeps her pace at a decidedly ‘normal human being’ level.

This does not go unnoticed by Eliza, who, after a few seconds, crosses the distance between them and wraps Kara in a tight, one-armed hug, rubbing her shoulder, soothing and slow.

“Kind of quiet around here, with just the two of us, huh?” she says, because if she says anything  _else,_  Kara will deny, deny, deny, and put on that unaffected smile, and pretend like everything’s fine.

Kara shrugs. “Kind of,” she says in a small voice.

“It’ll take some getting used to.”

“…Yeah.”

“So it’s okay, to be a little sad.”

Kara’s onto her by now, so she rolls her eyes, and insists that she’s fine,  _really._ Eliza doesn’t press the matter. Instead, she opens the fridge, and pulls out a brown paper bag with Kara’s name scribbled on the side in black Sharpie.

“So you  _won’t_  be needing this lunch I made special for you? Because I made it  _specifically_  for ‘cheering up’ purposes, but if you’re fine—”

Kara tilts her glasses down and checks the contents of the bag, and then beams as she wraps Eliza in a (two-armed but tempered) hug.

“ _Thank you,”_  she says it a few times, interspersed with admissions of  _okay I_ _ **do**_ _kind of miss Alex so I will definitely be needing those potstickers, yes_ , and Eliza just nods sagely.

“Mmm, thought so.”

Kara’s outlook brightens considerably as she gets back to measuring the Bisquick, her earlier sadness fading. She smiles to herself.

Maybe…she’s not so bad at change after all.

* * *

No, she’s definitely bad at change.

She realizes this right around fourth period. The entire morning has been spent going through the (admittedly tedious) motions of the first day—introductions, expectations, more introductions.

Which, normally, Kara doesn’t mind. Except that each class has gone more or less the same:

“Kara Danvers?” a teacher will say.

“Here,” Kara will answer.

“Danvers…do you have a sister?”

“Yeah, Alex.”

“I had Alex in (insert grade level and class here)! She graduated last year, right? How’s she doing?”

And of course, Kara would very proudly tell them that out of  _all_  of the Big Deal colleges that wanted her sister, Alex picked The Biggest Deal and is doing great, thanks.

And  _that_  was fine—Kara had no problem, telling her teachers how awesome her sister was.

But it  _did_  get her thinking about Alex, and how she was hundreds of miles away, as opposed to three classrooms over, and how she wouldn’t be waiting for Kara at lunch time, wouldn’t be at home after school…

Her throat burns again.

Her new math teacher has them playing ‘two truths and a lie.’ Kara’s not paying attention—she’s staring out through the murky glass of the classroom windows, idly entertaining the thought of testing the limits of her super hearing, her telescopic vision.

If she listened hard enough, could she pick up Alex’s heartbeat, all those long miles away?

It’s dumb; she probably can’t.

(This does not stop her from trying.)

Not exactly her best idea—it’s a lot of stimuli to take in and filter past. It requires all of her concentration, her focus, her control.

She’s pretty sure she gets as far as the neighboring middle school, when suddenly—

“—ARA.”

Mr. Pang doesn’t shout it, but he might as well have, because it’s loud and close in Kara’s ear. She startles, jerking back in her chair, crushing the laminate particle board of her desk in the process.

Her teacher blinks in surprise, stepping back, staring at the destruction as Kara’s classmates laugh and guffaw in disbelief.

Kara stares back, terrified, because  _Rao, Alex hasn’t even been gone two weeks, and I’ve already blown my cover, and people are gonna find out I’m an alien, and, and—!_

“…That’s…” her teacher starts to say, and then closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, muttering about how  _it’s going to be a long year, dear God._  “Great, just great, we’re short desks as it is.”

She isn’t detained and/or shuffled off to some Black Ops site for experimentation and dissection. Instead, she’s told that her parents might have to pay to replace the desk, but that probably won’t be the case. “These desks are literally falling apart,” Mr. Pang says, as he directs her to the spare, rolling desk chair at the TA desk up front. “But hey, don’t worry about it folks, we got nice new turf for the football field, isn’t that great?”

The rest of the class laughs at the sarcastic comment, and attention is shifted away from Kara, and back to…whatever it is they were covering while Kara spaced out. Kara does her best to stay on task after that, not wanting a repeat slip up. One ruined desk is a fluke. Two…is cause for questioning.

The day goes on, but that annoying burn lingers in the back of her throat. Because she’s embarrassed and missing Alex and just really wants to go home.

Three o'clock can’t come fast enough.

* * *

Kara walks home, after school. Eliza told her she could drive the Jetta, if she wanted, but Kara’s not a big fan of driving.

Besides, the late August sun feels nice, and there’s a bit of a breeze, coming off the ocean. It makes her feel a little less…awful. She briefly considers testing her super hearing again, but instead decides to train her ears on the dull roar of the waves, losing herself in the crash and hiss of the spray.

She kicks at some loose gravel, and accidentally sends a larger rock whizzing down the street and out of sight. Distantly, a cat yowls, and something large and metallic falls over. She sighs in frustration.

She misses Alex.

She misses Alex, and she’s bad at change, and she imagines coming home to a big, quiet house with just her and Eliza every day (and maybe not even Eliza, depending on how late she’s working) and the thought of being  _alone_  is enough to exacerbate that troublesome burn in the back of her throat; now, it’s a full-blown  _ache._

Eliza’s still at work by the time she gets home. She drops her backpack by the front door (which is Very Much Frowned Upon)  _and_  she kicks her shoes off, not caring where they land. She drags herself upstairs and falls into bed, face down, where she plans on staying for the rest of the school year.

She doesn’t know how many hours pass before she hears the car pull into the driveway, Eliza’s  _Notting Hill_  soundtrack skipping on track seven, like it always does. Eliza huffs a little as she gets out of the car (a relatively new development; Alex insisted it was arthritis, which led to an entirely too-long debate about the nuances of joint swelling.)

Kara manages a weak smile; Alex’s and Eliza’s numerous arguments over medical science always reminded her of when her dad and Uncle Jor would get into it at family dinners, bickering over anything and everything, from inefficient rocket propulsion to the outcome of the most recent Garata match.

_Shockingly_ , this trip down memory lane does not make her feel any better. She curls onto her side and hugs her extra pillow close, so wrapped up in feeling miserable that she doesn’t notice Eliza’s presence until the mattress dips beside her, and Eliza’s hand is on her shoulder, once again rubbing soothing, slow circles.

“You should give Alex a call,” she suggests gently.

“Already tried,” Kara grumbles miserably, flopping an arm backwards, pointing towards her cell phone on the nightstand. “Voicemail.”

Eliza laughs lightly. “Maybe…try again a little later. You know how she is…she’s probably still busy settling in, adjusting to her classes, a new routine…”

“The new routine’s dumb,” Kara tells her, sniffling. She rubs at her eyes with the back of her hand, knocking her glasses to one side.

Eliza’s voice is soft and sympathetic. “It’ll get better, sweetie.” Kara grunts. “Well, alright, it’ll get  _easier._  I promise.”

Eliza rubs her shoulder for a little bit, and eventually, Kara tells her about the desk incident at school. Eliza doesn’t get mad—she  _never_  gets mad…not at Kara, at least—but she does let out an exasperated sigh.

“No one suspected anything,” Kara makes sure to emphasize. Eliza nods.

“Having seen my fair share of classrooms…stranger things have happened.”

Kara’s curiosity is piqued. “Really?” she asks, wondering what on Earth could be weirder than  _her._

Thus, the evening is spent listening to Eliza recount various  _insane_  tales of her time in lecture halls and labs. Normally, she saves these sorts of stories for Alex—which Kara doesn’t mind. It’s…kind of their  _thing,_  and Kara tries not to intrude.

But she likes hearing about the annoying TAs and the centrifuge from Hell and the early, earnest efforts of Eliza and Jeremiah’s research that, more often than not, involved a lot of jury-rigging and therefore, a lot of duct tape. Clark sometimes makes an appearance, and Eliza makes sure to include all of the embarrassing details.

Kara’s feeling a lot better, when she tries calling Alex a second time, later that night.

She gets the voicemail again.

Kara’s good mood is gone. Seconds later, though, she gets a text.  _Sorry! Saw that you called just busy w/ class stuff. I’ll call you tomorrow! Try not to set anything on fire in the meantime lol_

The prospect of having to wait almost a whole _day_ to talk to Alex doesn’t exactly fill her with much enthusiasm, but it’s still better than nothing. She texts back a smiley face, along with a  _haha no fire yet did destroy school property tho_  in the hopes of prolonging the conversation, but Alex just sends back a  _XD,_ probably assuming that Kara’s joking, and that’s that.

So…she doesn’t feel  _as_  awful, but she doesn’t necessarily feel  _great,_  either.

She finds herself wandering downstairs late at night, long after Eliza’s gone to bed, unable to sleep in a room that feels a little more 'half empty’ than 'half full.’

Eliza finds her the next morning, sprawled out gracelessly on the couch, the  _Hello, Dolly!_  DVD menu music looping endlessly.

“Alright, up, up,” Eliza says, nudging her awake. Kara lets out an uncharacteristic growl. “None of that. We have places to be, come on.”

Kara pushes herself up, and blinks at the wall clock.

“…I’m late for school,” she says, a little bit shocked.

“You’re sick, so you’re not going,” Eliza tells her.

Kara opens her mouth to state the obvious:  _I don’t get sick_ , but Eliza holds up a hand. “All part of maintaining appearances. Also, I need help with something. Two birds, one stone.”

“What do you need help with?” Kara asks, still (pleasantly?) surprised that she gets to skip school. She’s…never done that before. (Sure, she and Alex  _talked_ about skipping school, but. Those plans never got much farther than the 'hypothetical’ stage.)

“Carrying some boxes,” Eliza says offhandedly, heading for the kitchen. “But mostly, keeping me company. I have a long drive, and all of my CDs skip. Conversation would be a vast improvement.”

Kara sits up straighter. “How…how long of a drive?”

“Mmm, six hours, give or take? Depending on traffic.” Slowly, Kara feels a smile tug at the corners of her mouth.  “So the sooner we get ourselves going, the bet—” Kara’s dressed and ready before she can finish the sentence, “—ter.”

“How many boxes? Should we pack anything else? Alex is gonna hate us.” Kara can barely stand still, she’s so excited.

“Mmm,” Eliza inclines her head towards the care package that she was going to mail, but. An in-person delivery might be better. “Not if we bring pie.”

* * *

Alex is horrified for maybe, like, five seconds.

“Oh my God, Mom, seriously? It’s barely been a week,” she says, groaning. But Kara barrels into her, hugging her tight, apologizing profusely. “Wait, why are  _you_ sorry? Did you break my CD player again?”

“I just…missed you a lot? It wasn’t Eliza’s idea. Well, I mean, it  _was_  her idea, but only because I was being a wimp…”

She also makes sure to mention the pie which, just as Eliza predicted, smooths everything over considerably.

“Not chocolate pecan,” Alex feigns surprise. Kara looks moderately offended.

“Of course not,” she says. “It’s for  _you,_  it should be  _your_  favorite.”

“Mmm. Mom made you a separate pie, didn’t she.”

“…Maybe.”

Alex rummages through the rest of the contents of the care package, recoiling slightly as she stumbles across Kara’s homemade card.

“Ugh. So much  _glitter,_ ” she says, handling it gingerly. “This stuff never goes away.”

“That…is true.” Kara glances at her fingertips, some of which still bear the sparkly mark of glitter glue.

But Alex tacks it up on her bulletin board regardless, and thanks Kara for the thoughtful gifts. And for not eating any of the pie on the drive up.

(“It was a struggle,” Kara admits, and Eliza nods. “It was.”)

Once that’s done, the trio makes something of a show of hauling the remaining boxes upstairs—Alex had apparently forgotten a few remaining items for her dorm room, so the impromptu reunion can be passed off as something a little less damaging to Alex’s reputation.

They spend the rest of the afternoon simply catching up. At one point, Eliza excuses herself, mentioning a colleague she’d like to say hi to before they go.

So Alex decides to show Kara around—later, when she’s inevitably teased about her family showing up not even two weeks into classes, she can tell them that Kara’s interested in attending, possibly. The campus tour will help sell the story.

Really, though, she’s happy to see them—classes have been crazy enough to keep her from feeling  _too_  homesick, but once in a while, she’ll catch herself planning to tell Kara or her mom something at dinner, only to remember that’s…not exactly how it works, now.

And that realization is always a little…it’s a bit of a downer, sure. But, she reminds herself, looking over at her sister—she’s the older one. She has to be…something. Brave, strong? Set a good example, maybe? For Kara.

“I’m glad you came up to visit,” she says, throwing an arm around Kara’s shoulders. “But. Are you gonna come up here  _every time_  you get lonely? Because I  _do_  have classes to attend, you know.”

“You should try skipping,” Kara says with a smirk. “It’s pretty fun.”

“I’m gone  _one week_  and you’re playing hookie, destroying school property…what next? Grand theft auto?”

Kara wrinkles her nose.

“What would I do with a car?”

“Uh, drive it?”

“Mmm, pass.”

“Weirdo.” Alex laughs. “I know several people who would kill for a car. Public transit here  _sucks._ ”

“Good thing you don’t have to go far, I guess?” Kara says. Alex shrugs.

“I’d like to explore a bit,” she tells her. “But. I guess I’m with you. Not really in love with the idea of making car payments.” She shoves her hands in her pockets. “…Maybe a motorcycle.”

Kara stares.

“Eliza would kill you.”

“I’m joking,” Alex says. Kara doesn’t believe her, and her suspicion must show on her face, because Alex continues. “Really, I am. Mostly, anyway. …Whatever. It’s not gonna happen anyway, I’ve now joined the ranks of poor, pitiful, destitute college students.”

“I’ve read they mostly survive on Ramen,” Kara says with a completely straight face. Alex snorts.

“Yeah, Ramen and Red Bull. That’s what you should’ve put in the care package.”

Kara shakes her head.

“Pie is  _way better,”_  she declares passionately.

Alex laughs. “No argument there.”

* * *

They stay through dinner, but not for much longer after that. It’s not ideal, having to drive back the same day, but unfortunately necessary, as Eliza has to be back in Midvale for a meeting tomorrow morning.

“Thanks for bringing the lamp and stuff,” Alex gestures back towards the dorms. “Saved me a trip back home.”

“You should still come. Back home. Sometime,” Kara blurts. “Eventually, I mean.”

“Well,  _duh.”_

“Like,  _before_  Thanksgiving Break,” Kara amends, stepping forward and hugging Alex goodbye. She drops her head onto her sister’s shoulder—they’re about the same height now, so it’s not so much a drop as a lean, but either way it works.

“I will,” Alex promises. “But…I do…have to be  _here._  And go to classes. And be on my own a bit,” she reminds her sister gently. “That’s…kinda why I picked this school. I wanted a change, you know?”

Kara thinks change is highly overrated. And, though she knows going away to college is A Thing Young People Do, the idea of being sent off, far from home, far from the people you love, with the weighty burden of adult responsibility?

She’s already done that once. Wasn’t great.

But she’s not Alex, and Alex isn’t her; she knows that her sister was indeed ready for a change by the time her Senior year rolled around. Ready for someplace  _besides_  Midvale. And she knows that Alex is going to do  _amazing_ things here.

So she’s going to be…brave? Strong? Not be such a wimp, maybe? For Alex.

“Yeah,” she says, nodding. “Yeah. I get it.”

“You’ll be fine, alright?” Alex grins. “Just. Don’t be late for Mr. Nelson’s class. And Ms. Harris isn’t tolerable until she’s had coffee so like, keep a low profile until you’re certain she has caffeine on board.”

“Okay,” Kara says, making a mental list. She’s feeling better, about the days ahead. Alex says she can do this.

And so, she can.

“I’ll be better about calling, though,” Alex adds, hugging her back. “And, seriously. Quit breaking shit.”

“ _Alex,”_  Eliza says, and Kara hides her giggles.

“'Kay,” she says. “I’ll quit breaking…stuff.”

“Thank goodness  _one_  of my children is polite,” Eliza gives Alex a pointed look as she hugs her. Kara steps back, and does her best not to listen in as Eliza murmurs something to Alex. (Though, she hears something that sounds a lot like 'proud’ and, judging by the way Alex’s  mouth involuntarily pulls into a bashful grin, Kara’s certain that whatever it was? Was good.)

“Stay out of trouble,” Eliza calls from the car as they pull out. “No visible tattoos or tongue piercings, alright?”

Alex waves. “How about a motorcycle?”

“Alex Danvers,  _no,”_  Eliza says firmly. “Love you, sweetie.”

“Love you too, Mom, Kara. Bye!”

“Bye!”

They wave and holler until the campus parking lot fades from view.

They’re not even on the freeway yet, when Kara’s phone goes off. She looks down. A text from Alex that simply reads,

_Love you, sis._

_P.S. Alex YES._


End file.
